


All you need...

by DarkShadows93



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: How Do I Tag, No beta we fall like Crowley, Other, Shadwell loves Milkbottle, The Author Regrets Everything, The closest the author will ever get to solo smut (ish), The demise of Major Milkbottle, food porn?, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadows93/pseuds/DarkShadows93
Summary: Sometimes all one needs to make it through the day is just a little taste____Written for the GO Events server's Name the Author round 9 prompt "Milkbottle".
Relationships: Sergeant Shadwell/ Witchfinder Major Milkbottle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: GO-events NTA #9 - Milkbottle After Dark





	All you need...

**Author's Note:**

> the original challenge was to write it under 500 words. But I wrote an extended version because I just couldn't end it how I did. So.. enjoy this mess!

He was afraid to admit that he was feeling a bit peckish while staring at Major Milkbottle during one of their meetings. The way the sweat ran down the smooth glass surface like rain against the windowpane, the white liquid frothing at the base of the neck in a delicate crown. Shadwell licked his lips, his mind distracted for the briefest moments as the muscular organ grumbled in protest. God Above, why now? Why must he these horrid thoughts of a superior officer? There were rules and regulations. The sheer notion of these  _ vile  _ thoughts could bring his own demise. A dishonorable discharge at the least. 

Shadwell swallowed as he pulled his gaze away from the Major, shuffling the heap of papers before him, “Aye, where were we?” 

The silence between Major Milkbottle and Captian Saucepan was most certainly concerning. Milkbottle had quite a job on him and to see him so quiet? Well, the Major had to be sharing the same thoughts. Shadwell licked his lips once more, his gaze slowly brought back to that soft frothy milk, his skin crawling with excitement. A sort of excitement that one would get after pining for someone and they reciprocate the long-awaited emotions. A kiss on the cheek, a simple caress of a hand, a taste upon their lips. 

“Major, may I have a word?” Shadwell didn’t wait for a reply and promptly led the Major into the kitchen. His fingers caressing the damp glass as he stared longingly at the glorious Major, “Uh, sir, couldn’t help but notice the stare. Was there anything that ye-?”

The muscle in his gut grumbled aloud making Shadwell groan. He sat the Major down on the counter and grabbed a tin of biscuits. A little snack wouldn’t hurt, will it? “Did I do something wrong?” he popped the tin open and stared at a pink frosted biscuit. Oh, how a glass of milk would- No, not in front of the Major, “Go ahead and say it. ‘Spposed I overstep my command with the Southern Pansey. Biscuit?”

A bead of sweat ran down the Major’s neck as Shadwell bit into the biscuit. He chewed the biscuit slowly, watching the Major with adoration. There was a fire burning in his stomach that he couldn’t tell if it was acid or a different type of fire. It made him thirsty. So thirsty. A thirst he couldn’t satiate. 

“So delicious.” Was he referring to the biscuit or the Major? Shadwell couldn’t tell himself, the gaze between the two was like a spark from a burning flame. Smoldering and untamed. 

“Yer doin’ it again, Major. The starin’.” His voice grew low and husky as he placed the tin of biscuits on the adjacent counter and approached the Major, “Are ye thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’? Two honorable men just lookin’ for some company. What harm could it be? Just a friendly chat? Just a little….” He slowly ran his fingers down the Major’s neck, his stomach burning for a taste. A ragged breath escaping from his lips as the Major accepted his offer, “ taste.”

Shadwell pressed the lip of the Major against his, the ice-cold, frothy liquid rushing down his throat like wave cascading in the sea. The fire within extinguished as the white liquid filled him more ways than one, his belly swelling as the last drip ran across his lips. The Major tasted so good. He couldn’t have enough of him. More. He craved him more. 

A delicious moan escaped from Shadwell’s lips as he lowered the bottle, breathless, full, and ecstatic. The Major having filled him in more ways than one. Oh, how did he desire more? Craved more. One taste was just never enough. He licked his lips “Major? I must say that was-” Shadwell coughed wiping the remnants of the white foam from his lips, “Oh bloody Hell… not again.”


End file.
